Devon Alone IV: The Legacy of Tears by Nicole Mayer

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DEVON, ALONE. PART IV
The Legacy of Tears (6/9)
by Nicole Mayer

Ironically, it was Dison Blalock who was assigned the duty of escorting Danziger and Yale to 'the freezer'. Earlier, Danziger had voiced his suspicions to Yale about Blalock being a Replica, and the cyborg was inclined to agree with him.

However, there was still Blalock's emotional outburst at the mention of Devon's name to consider. Perhaps the process of creating Replicas wasn't yet perfect, and adverse reactions to traumas of the past life could resurface. Yale decided that whoever did this to Blalock was probably testing him in this mediocre duty.

"Right this way," sneered Blalock, gesturing them through sweeping metal doors. The temperature noticeably dropped, even though the area was supposed to be acclimatised with the outside corridors. Danziger involuntarily shivered. Perhaps it was the great walls of steel that caused the foreboding atmosphere, or it may have been the sense of death that permeated every part of the room.

Although 'room' wasn't an adequate word to describe the setting. 'Cavern' seemed so much more appropriate. It stretched for kilometres in either direction, body upon body stored for who knew what purpose. They were extremely lucky that Devon Adair's body was still here, and not cremated as was the typical fashion for death on the stations, because quite some time had passed since Yale put in his initial request. Even in the most trying circumstances, bureaucracy could be counted on to roll along in its own inimitable fashion, caring little for the dignity of the individual.

"To the left, please," Blalock directed, striding confidently in front of the two men. Past the temporary section for recent deaths, past the section with bodies still awaiting investigation, and deep into the depths of the great grey world. This struck Yale as quite odd.

Their footsteps echoed horribly in the eerie quiet of the ultimate futuristic tomb. Finally, after what seemed an eternity of travel through the cold world, Blalock paused in front of one indistinct panel. He quickly keyed in an access code, and a metallic slab slid out from the wall. Devon.

She lay like a princess preserved in the ice of eternity. Her eyes, once so vividly blue, were closed to the greyness above and for that both Yale and Danziger were glad. They did not know if they could cope with seeing the emptiness within her soul.

Compelled, Danziger reached out to touch one fragile cheek. She was so cold to his touch, so terribly cold and lifeless - she was a porcelain doll which might crack at any moment.

Danziger was reluctant to move his eyes from that delicate face, studying it in every detail. And although Yale had similar qualms, he knew why he was there - to learn the truth. He forced himself to visually examine the body (not Devon, he told himself - he needed to professionally detach himself if he was going to get any answers) and Yale was glad he had studied up on the injuries received by rapid decompression.

There were traces of bruising along the major veins, but this was difficult to appreciate as her body had been frozen for so long. Likewise, any appreciable shades of sunburn from short, yet direct exposure to the sun's deadly rays, could not be confirmed. Or perhaps she had only floated in the dark side of the station's shadow.

He looked for the signs of asphyxiation, which would have caused her death. Covertly moving his hand over the body, for Yale had incorporated a medical scanner into his arm, he noted a ragged tear in her lungs. Yale frowned, for the rip seemed too... penetrating...and... intrusive for simple suffocation.

Yale deepened the scan, to check her cellular readings. As expected, there was some rupturing, but not nearly as much as he would have expected. He was about to voice his findings and suspicions to John Danziger, when he was rudely interrupted.

"Are you satisfied now?" Blalock asked impatiently, tapping his foot as the forbidden emotions surfaced. A sudden internal buzzing in Blalock's head caused the man to grasp at his temples in pain, but Danziger didn't notice this. His attention was focussed on Devon.

Ever so carefully, he tilted her chin towards him, so that he could see her empty face clearly. Danziger frowned.

"That's not her." There was no question in his words, and no doubt whatsoever.

"Excuse me?" blustered Blalock.
"This isn't Devon. I don't know *whose* body this is, and it's a damn good copy, but it's not her." Danziger's voice was low, but full of conviction as he looked to Yale for confirmation.

But it was a confirmation that was not forthcoming. Yale adjusted his scanner to check her DNA, the very essence of each person which could not be changed under any circumstances. "I'm sorry, John, but this *is* Devon Adair's body."

"It can't be!" Danziger exploded. "I *know* Devon, I know what she looks like! Could this be a clone?" he asked hopefully. That would explain so much - and it would give so much promise. If Devon had been captured by the Council... they might kill a clone so that Devon's friends would stop following her trail! And only then would Devon herself give in to their demands

But Yale shook his head. "There is always a slight trace resonance from cloned cells, even when the subject is deceased." John Danziger felt all fragments of hope leave him yet again, and his knees weakened. He placed one hand on the metal slab to brace himself, tortured eyes on the face of the woman who was called Devon Adair.

The cyborg turned to coldly face Blalock. "There is no doubt that this is Devon Adair, but she did not die of asphyxiation. She was not jettisoned into a vacuum. I believe she was murdered."

Danziger took a step back, pure disgust and contempt towards Blalock flowing from his eyes. However, Blalock did not flinch.

"Your assumptions are in error," he told Yale. "The Council is meticulous when investigating deaths. We have surveillance footage of *her* walking towards the docking bay!"

"It could be faked!" Danziger shouted, his emotions getting the better of him.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Blalock asked, his voice becoming dangerously low. "Because let me tell you, right now, that I personally examined that footage when these absurd requests came up. Can't you just accept the fact that Devon Adair was a stupid, worthless excuse for a human being? She threw *herself* out of an airlock! It wasn't the Council, it wasn't some great conspiracy. She killed herself, and now we should be glad that she's gone." Blalock began to laugh, almost maniacally. He clutched at his head, a small moan escaping his lips before the laughter surged back.

Yale stared at the man with a mixture of revulsion and pity. Blalock fell to his knees, suddenly shouting, "Make it stop! Oh, please, make it go away!" He was no longer laughing, but now writhing in pain. Danziger lost the urge to punch him through the wall into eternity, and watched, both intrigued and sickened by the spectacle.

All of a sudden, three white suited figures entered the cavern. They did not speak, but the stripes on their uniforms clearly indicated their authority as Council medical staff. Dark suited security personnel quickly followed the medics. Rapidly, Blalock was hauled up from the ground and half-dragged away while security turned its attention to Yale and Danziger. Obviously, their time there was over.

Danziger turned as the capsule was returned to the wall. He caught a last glimpse of the Devon who was not Devon and knew in his heart that whoever she was, her body would not be here much longer. Far too much had been said, and now the Council was aware of their suspicions. There would be no more opportunity for proof.

Irrationally, Danziger whispered, "Goodbye," under his breath as the crypt sealed shut with a resounding thud. Whoever she was, she was truly gone forever.

***

"Kassidy!" Alex Wentworth's voice was high-strung and full of anxiety. "I've been trying to reach you and John for days. Where have you been?!"

Kassidy carelessly dropped her bag to the floor. She had finally come home, but to an empty unit and a mountain load of messages. She felt freer than she had in months, and finally ready to tell John that she believed their relationship, as lovers, was over.

But before she even had time to look around, the communications panel had beeped with an urgent incoming call. Kassidy abhorred wearing Gear, and had purposely left hers behind when she left. Besides, Gear was generally only used during military operations, or while out on the job. Only the paranoid carried sets all the time.

Kassidy smiled at Alex with what she hoped was a reassuring expression. "I've been on an expedition," she explained, deliberately not elaborating.

However, Alex brushed aside her words. "Okay, fine, something came up, but don't you know what this is doing to *her*?" By 'her', Alex obviously meant True Danziger. "I would have expected you to be more considerate!"

Frowning, Kassidy said, "I don't understand." "She's been expecting John, or you, since Monday! John promised he'd come visit, but neither of you showed up."

"He didn't?" repeated Kassidy. Alex shook her head vigorously. "No messages, nothing. It's like he disappeared from the stations entirely."

Kassidy felt her knees buckle. "Oh no," she whispered. Her face grew pale, and Alex noticed her reaction. "What?" she asked anxiously. "You don't think..."

"What if *they* got to him?" she whispered, horrified at the possibility. "They couldn't have!" Kassidy cried out, trying to deny the possibility. Her next words were vicious, and Alex was the unfortunate recipient of Kassidy's rare anger.

"What did the Resistance have him doing? Who was so *stupid* as to go ahead with action? We needed to lie low for a while yet!" In her fear and anger, Kassidy forgot the necessity of a secure channel.

"Kass, listen!" shouted Alex. "We've done nothing! Whatever he's got himself involved in, it wasn't *us*. He wouldn't put everything at stake, and he wouldn't do something rash without at least letting someone know first." Her voice took on a graver tone. "Did he leave you a message?"

"I haven't even checked yet, you called just as I walked in the door and realised that no one was here." Nervously, Kassidy's fingers danced over the panel to manually scan through the list of messages. "Nothing," she declared. "Where is he?!"

"It might just be a misunderstanding," Alex offered, but her eyes clearly showed the concern her words attempted to hide. "He could walk in any moment."

"No," Kassidy said sullenly, shaking her head. "He wouldn't just take off. That's my department." She felt a sudden wave of remorse for her actions. What had she been thinking, just walking out like that? He was her *husband*, for better or for worse. "I have to find him," she vowed. "If I lose him, I don't know what I'll do."

"Take it easy, Kass," Alex cautioned. "Don't do anything rash." Kassidy nodded, her big blue eyes bright with unshed tears of remorse and worry. "I'll let you know what I find out," she promised. "Say hi to everyone for me." Kassidy closed the connection, and immediately initiated a new call. If the Council were involved, there was only one man she could ask to help her. Morgan Martin.

End 6/9

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